A Good Bat Night
by Kat Lee formerly Pirate Turner
Summary: Alfred froze, his hand around his prize, as he heard a low voice speak from behind him. "I should arrest you now."  3rd in Will's 12 Days of Christmas series for Jack.  Slash.


Title: "A Good Bat Night"  
Author: Pirate Turner  
Especially Dedicated To: My beloved hero, Jack  
For: My beloved Jack and our babies as part of their presents for Solstice/Christmas/Kitsmas  
Rating: PG-13  
Summary: Alfred froze, his hand around his prize, as he heard a low voice speak from behind him. "I should arrest you now."  
Warnings: Slash, Unconventional Pairing  
Word Count: 889  
Date Written: 23 December 2010  
Disclaimer: Bruce "Batman" Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, and Dick "Robin" Grayson are & TM DC comics, not the author; are used without permission; and may not be used without permission. Everything else is & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.

The elegant man's blue eyes flashed across the surroundings all around him before he finally allowed his hand to reach out and grasp his prize. Warmth caused his fingertips to tingle as he brought the treasure whose worth only he truly knew closer to its rightful place, and then a voice, smooth and low with the warnings of a thousand ill fates resting within it, spoke from directly behind him.

"I should arrest you now."

The old man did not raise his eyes. He had no need to do so to know who spoke to him for he knew the voice even better than he knew his own and knew the handsome, young, and deadly man to whom it belonged just as well. "You would never do so," he commented softly, the knowledge twisting his lips into a half-grin, half-smirk.

"What makes you so sure?" The mouth of the man behind him twisted into a wry, self-depreciating smile. "Why, you're probably the only one who knows just exactly how many criminals I've put behind bars, and you're certainly a thief."

"I beg your pardon, sir!" the butler cried, feigning defiance and shock. He pressed one hand to the front of his carefully pressed down jacket.

The younger man closed his hand gently down upon the thief's elbow. "I've seen you in action many times, Alfred, and I know well the thief you are. Here you're stealing only cookies, but you steal from me every day and night of my life. Your smile steals my breath away. Your touch steals a beat of my heart as it forgets to function."

Bruce stepped up behind his beloved Alfred, the one man in all the world who managed to keep him as sane as he was and keep him going, keep him living no matter what happened, and keep him fighting the good fight for the hope he gave him even when he had not even a single strand of hope left anywhere else. His lips brushed the thinning hair on the back of his darling Alfred's head as he concluded huskily, "You stole my heart what feels like eons ago, and now you steal Santa's cookies."

Alfred smiled and turned around in his lover's arms. He wrapped one arm around him, softly running his fingers over the muscles in his lower back, even as he boldly took a bite of the cookie he grasped like a Nobel prize. "And why not?" he asked. "I did, after all, bake them myself, and I am this household's Santa. I always have been and always will be. We've no need for any form of assistance from a jolly elf in a red suit." He smiled lovingly up into his sweetheart's handsome face as he added, almost as an afterthought, "Only from a dashing, daring, and most handsome figure in a black suit."

Bruce smiled, clearly flattered. "Why, thank you. I - "

Alfred raised his eyebrows as he nibbled another bite of frosted sugar cookie. After swallowing, he asked, "Did I say your name, Master Bruce?" When Bruce paused to give his question thought, Alfred, smiling broadly, finished off his cookie and smoothed down the lapels of his black suit jacket. "I was talking about myself, of course."

Bruce burst out laughing, and Alfred's smiling face sparkled in delight at the fact that he had accomplished his mission and caused his love to forget all of his worries and actually relax for a change. Bruce's laughter rang throughout the mansion and Batcave alike as he swept his love up into his arms and twirled him around with Alfred's gay laughter intermingling sweetly with his own.

They continued to laugh as Bruce sprinted up the stairs with Alfred nestled securely in his arms, his head against his excitedly roaring heartbeat, and into Bruce's bedroom. Once there, he laid him upon his bed but continued to nestle him close. Covering him, with his muscular knees on either side of him to keep his weight off of him, Bruce lovingly took Alfred's smiling, handsome face into his caressing, cupped hands and gave him his favorite Christmas present of that year and all the years to come with his next words.

"You are my hero," he vowed deeply. "You're what keeps me going, Alfred, and I couldn't do anything I do if not for you. You may have stolen my heart years ago, but you've also given me everything I treasure most and taught me all I know of true importance. I love you!" Then, as far away "Ho! Ho! Ho!"s were heard echoing through the clear, star-filled, night sky, Bruce began to cover his love's handsome face with sweet and tender kisses and show Alfred just how infinitely true his words and love for him alone were and would forever remain.

Left alone in his bedroom to supposedly wait for Santa Claus to arrive in the morning, Dick heard the laughter of the two men who had become almost as much fathers to him as his own true father had been and sat back with a knowing smile and an arm tucked behind his head. He waggled his eyebrows at the things he imagined Alfred and Bruce doing and whispered, knowing they'd cease their act of loving immediately if they even suspected he might still be awake, "A merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good Bat night!"

**The End**


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